Sorry For Not Being Me
by lollipop cerise
Summary: As time goes by, I feel distorted, tired and lost. I never thought things could become such a mess… I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry for not being me.


At the age of 8, Christophe was selected as the most talented kid by my father and his comrades. They acknowledge Christophe to possess a talent for special duty.

A talent for killing.

"Learn and benefit from others, Gregory."I recall my father bent over and smiled at me, "And remember, in the battle for existence, tact is the clever footwork." I nodded automatically.

"I see this kid is bearing hatred beyond his age…This power will grow and be tamed to make him the best mercenary ever."

"But isn't killing wrong?" I cracked before I could think.

"We kill because it's just, my son. And I'm never wrong."

I was too young to understand how justice could be brought by violence. As a child, I only had one faith.

It's the faith to life.

"We do utmost to achieve our goals, Gregory. Your victory will be based on your excellence as a strategist, and the sacrifices of others." His voice was stern and incontrovertible. I couldn't retort him.

"Trust me, kid, you're the chosen ones. You can never be ordinary, because you're my son."

I trusted him.

It was due to human nature, without realizing who he really was…

* * *

Nine years later, I shot that inglorious bastard in the face.

Christophe and I managed to escaped from the Base after I killed him, then we rushed into the forest and lost the pursuing troops by enormous luck.

The moonlight was pale, gloomy and incredibly cold, we're covered in blood, dirt and scars, our clothes were ragged and my heart's become undone. Even though the only one on earth who understands me was there, the Mole was with me, I was still feeling rather scared than worn out.

"Tu pleures, n'est-ce pas? "

"No." I blinked,and suddenly made a face at the stinging feeling on my cheeks.

For the first time in my life, I tasted my own tears.

"He had to die…You trust me, don't you? We're trained not to trust, but you do know I hate this life…I hate the truth…"

Before I could finish, his lips were on mine. Devouring me till I couldn't breathe.

The kiss was violent, fierce, possessive, desperate…but it was also comforting under the situation. It oddly smoothed my frightened heart, which was utterly unexpected. _Maybe I don't have to kill myself to break free anymore, I can just die in his arms and blame everything on him. Maybe I can finally stop running… _Maybe entrust myself to Christophe was exactly what I wanted then.

He didn't close his eyes while kissing me, I could see his dark orbs reflecting my figure, reading my crazy thoughts, my soul was horrified… then I shut my eyes.

…..

When I woke up in the chilling wind, Christophe was snoring. We were nearly naked, and lost in the depth of a thick forest. I rose my head and looked up at the inky sky, stared at the distant stars and fought to regain my **composure**.

It wasn't a dream. It wasn't love. It was nothing more than consolation, in order to save me from the profound abyss of fear… just the way we survive.

_Now what?_

"_You're supposed to be ready to face the unknown, my son."_

As though he was still around...loving me as a real, decent father. I killed him but he kept living in my head.

His voice drifted me into nightmares. I just didn't know how to get rid of the monster for good.

* * *

Another two years have passed…

"C'est une vie fatigante. " You muttered, lighting the cigarette between your lips, "Mais.. It'z everyzing I know."

"No one said it's an easy job." I chuckled, "It's a highly dangerous, rewarding job, not everyone can do it as excellent as you."

"Oui." You nodded nonchalantly, then sharply narrowed your eyes at me."You've never been in love?"

"What?" It sounded so awkward._ What kind of question is that?_

"You 'eard me."

I looked at you back inanely, sighed. "Don't."

"But I do."

"Fuck off." You just smirked at me, which is bloody irritating…always get to me, and I know it's because you know me too well. I've been an indifferent zombie for a long time. Though I always keep to stay polite on the surface, I can't ignore the feelings rotting inside. I am a human.

"Lizen to your 'eart, Gregory."

"I don't need such an advice from a merc." I sneered, and without a backward glance I left for the door.

I wonder since when integrity's become a luxury.

Perhaps that's due to all the inhumanity we've been through, all the blood and darkness has paralyzed me, and I didn't grasp the vigor in my heart when it's vanishing away. I'm not a master of diplomacy, I can't dissecting others' inner thoughts, because I've blocked my feelings to the outside world. I've murdered my urges because I can't afford to make things personal. Need no one, stand on my own, fight the world alone, everyone for himself…These are the rules I stick to since I was a child. Sympathy and sentimentality could lead to fatal ending, and I'd do anything to avoid that.

Sophisticated, subtle, egotistical and above all, hypocritical, are always the words to describe me. I'm selfish, I used to trick people because I wanted thing to be fine. But now, I trick people because I **can**. I do things on my own purpose, even by hurting others, without caring for the majority. I'm quite poor at acting as if I understand worldly emotions. A proof as an outlier to life.

How pathetic.

I've lost my perception, my faith, my credit…Almost everything. Every time when I take a look at the inside me, there's nothing but a pitch-dark hollow, and it won't stop **eroding me… **It eats me alive. I thoght I could cast off mercy, but it haunts me when relentlessness changed me into something I'm not... I'm more than a hypocrite. There're times that I crave. Crave for something to evoke a myriad of sensual emotion.

And you…Christophe.. can never be gone. Because I'm afraid of losing you. What's more, you know me better than anyone else.

As kids, in my younger life, we were best friends, so loyal to each other and I would give my whole world to you. In my heart, nothing compared to you. Everything was simple and nice.

But now, what have we become?

…It's hard to explain the complexity of our lives, isn't it?

I think I can win myself back.

I may have done a great deal of damage to myself, but there's something I can't change.

Nobody knows me like you do. And that means something **significant.** We have memories that only we can share.

**I want to confess, I want you to know the means I take everyday doesn't stand for who I am. I think being unremitting cautious and prudent has formed me as an introverted person... but I was suffering in silence. When I got nobody in the battle field, I do want you to be there for me…And it turns out you're always there.**

I won't let you see my pain. Regardless of you already know I'm weak, I just don't want to show my remorse… I don't fucking show anything…I'm a miserable conflict, I'm sick.

I've always been the slave to my vanity…Or in your words, a bitch. Well, As time goes by, I feel distorted, tired and lost. I never thought things could become such a mess…This life is bloody cursed.

I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry for not being me.

Hope you understand I have no choice, we chose this life.. And we will survive.

When I came back, you're standing before the widow.

"You can't be mad at me, beetch."

"Of course not, Chris. We're adults now…You gotta trust me, we'll make it through together." Is that another lie?I don't think so…I rather believe I'm telling the truth.

"Make w'at zrough?" You raised an eyebrow.

"The hard time."

"I'm 'ard."

"What?"

A sly smirk playing on your face, and you kissed my collarbone.

"I adore you, Greg. Don't feel depressed."

I closed my eyes and smiled. I really have been locked away for too long.

"I won't."


End file.
